


The Bells That Chime

by Switchback



Category: Pocket Monsters | Pokemon (Anime), Pocket Monsters: Black & White | Pokemon Black and White Versions
Genre: Depression, Friendship, Fun times basically, Gen, It's... Mental Breakdown Time!, Maybe something more..., Mental Health Awareness, Not even Cilan is impervious to the blues, fatigue
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-30
Updated: 2017-03-30
Packaged: 2018-10-12 23:47:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,053
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10502001
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Switchback/pseuds/Switchback
Summary: After the first night, Pansage was the one to notice. The second night's passing was observed by Nurse Joy. The third night's conclusion was noted by Iris. Finally, after the fourth night, Ash had grown to realise...





	

After the first night, Pansage was the one to notice. His partner released from its Poké Ball to go dine with the others once their little troupe of Pokémon Trainers had stopped to break for lunch. It was only until the Grass-type turned to face him that his food had all been forgotten and the little monkey-like creature hung worriedly from his shoulders.

The second night's passing was observed by Nurse Joy. The usually chipper woman bowed as they passed by the Pokémon Centre's reception desk, her warm smile veiled by pink ringlets. She rose to wish them a safe journey but paused momentarily in her regard to shoot him a worried glance as they made their way out the door and into the early morn.

The third night's conclusion was noted by Iris. She stopped in her playful ministrations towards Axew when she caught sight of him returning from the forest, various twigs of firewood bundled in his arms. He ignored her in favour of packing away the provisions for the long road ahead, ensuring they had enough to keep them warm on the increasingly long and cold nights. She eventually gave voice to her worry and summarily shared a glance with her small Dragon-type when he waved away her concern, almost dropping the sticks of tinder in his hands as a result.

Finally, after the fourth night, Ash had grown to realise. He was rolling up his cerulean sleeping bag with a significant lack of vigour to his usual jubilance when the aspiring Pokémon Trainer jogged up to him. The young boy took a moment to scratch the back of his neck before suggesting they take a shortcut to the nearest Pokémon Centre for the night, feigning a bad back from sleeping on the forest floor. He remained silent, tugging the last zip cord of his bedroll tight before rising to his feet. When Ash asked after his well-being, he almost dropped his bag in his hasty dismissal and hurriedly retreated down the hill that had been their campsite for the night.

The eve of the fifth day fast approached as did the encroaching stars and they reached the nearest Pokémon Centre in good time, the cold slowly beginning to set in and creep under the warmth of their clothes to elicit goosebumps over their skin. The hospital was a much welcome sight and they quickly darted inside to join the throng of hikers and sightseers in the lobby. None of their group had come to realise the altitude of their journey, the natural incline masked by thick forests and winding trails. It was only upon reaching their destination that their climb had become clear; the small hospital housed within a wooden lodge a sure indicator to their height. Situated by the side of a deep lake, a quaint second-floor balcony attached to the Centre oversaw the remote waters and mountainside that framed the tranquil hideaway.

As Ash and Iris began to remark on the nearby mountains which piqued the interest of eavesdropping climbers, he undertook his usual role of designated accommodation arranger. As he brushed and weaved through the weary sightseers, he almost barrelled straight into an Audino. The pink-and-cream-furred Pokémon crashed into the gurney they wheeled, stumbling to a halt as their little nurse cap tumbled from their head to perch upon one of their ear curls.

He apologised profusely, bowing deep and picking the headwear from the Pokémon's curled antennae to set neatly in its proper place atop their crown. The Normal-type smiled at him before tilting their head, a concerned expression fleeting across their features. Dainty paws suddenly took hold of his cheeks and he suddenly found himself under thorough examination, but was swiftly saved by Nurse Joy who came to investigate the commotion. Apologising and releasing himself from Audino's soft grasp, he quickly excused himself and ducked into the crowd to locate the visitor ledger and hide his burning cheeks.

As night fell and the Pokémon Centre emptied, the three companions settled themselves into their rented room. He chose the bed closest to the sliding glass doors, half-heartedly listening to Iris's enthusiasm in them having 'lucked out' to have obtained a balcony view. Ash could be heard more than seen smiling as he sat atop his bed closest to the door with his legs folded beneath him, his socked feet poked by Pikachu as the Electric-type played with his toes. While his travelling companions conversed, he easily saw through their attempts to get him to join in with the conversation. He humoured them as he slowly undressed and eased from formality, unravelling his clover green bowtie while occasionally humming his agreements which appeared to please the two teens.

Shrugging from his waistcoat, he rose and made his way to the en-suite under the pretense of changing into his nightwear. He caught Iris's gaze following him but when he turned to raise an eyebrow towards the heights of his spiky chartreuse hair, she quickly averted her focus. Closing the bathroom door, he let out a sigh that heaved his shoulders and instead turned to the sink. Scooping some cool water to splash his face, he half-heartedly rubbed away the streaming rivulets from his features and peered at his reflection. Dark smudges etched deep beneath his eyes and were growing more prominent with each passing night. He fought back another sigh as he rubbed at them with a slender middle finger, almost expecting the deep violet to streak across his cheeks as a result. When the colour sat resolutely under his lashes, he steeled himself into composure before once more returning to the bedroom.

Ash was already snoring, spread-eagled and drooling in a tangle of limbs and duvet. Pikachu however was his juxtaposition, curled neatly in a yellow-and-brown-striped ball upon the boy's loose pyjama shirt. The Pokémon had made use of the folds of fabric and had conveniently created a nest out of the ripples, settled snugly within the surrounding ocean of material.

Iris looked up at him from her middle bed against the wall and blinked in surprise at his choice of nightwear, or rather, lack of any. She wondered out loud and Axew voiced his own opinion at her bedside but he waved them away, explaining he had some reading he wished to catch up on first. The Dragon-type trainer didn't appear to buy his story and as he began to neatly fold up his waistcoat he could feel her worried eyes upon him. Fishing out a Pokémon Connoisseur handbook from his leather pack, he settled down on the edge of his own bed and began to thumb through the creased pages which clearly showed heavy use. He pretended to read, staring at the words but not taking them in as his mind slugged along. He had a suspicion the young girl was watching him before the soft click and sudden darkness told him Iris had turned off the bedside light and finally turned over to sleep, the gentle rustle of duvet the only sound before it was swallowed up by Ash's snores.

He feigned reading by moonlight for a few minutes more until he was sure both Dragon-type Trainer and Pokémon were sound asleep. Gently folding the book closed, he ran a hand over his face and aching eyes before returning the small textbook to his backpack. Rising, he turned and gazed at the neatly made bed before him. After staring at the pillow for a considerable amount of time to Ash's cacophonous symphony in the background, he gave up and shuffled towards the sliding glass doors. Pulling the handle with gentle care so as to remain silent, a cold zephyr of mountain air quickly trickled in to caress his worn features and caused a shiver to wrack through his entire body. The nearby curtains began to billow out from the breeze and he tugged them over the small opening he'd made, catching the cool air before it wormed its way towards his two sleeping companions.

Pausing for a moment, he glanced towards his bed before silently tiptoeing across the room. Grabbing the corner of the duvet, he heaved the weighty material over his head with a little difficulty and distinct lack of panache to situate around his shoulders. Once more stepping towards the door, he dragged the bed cover with him like a trailing ball gown before pulling open the sliding doors. Stepping out onto the balcony, he heaved the cumbersome quilt through the opening and swiftly tugged the curtains back in place before closing the door and concealing the mountainous panorama.

Finding a black wicker chair placed to the left of the glass doors, he manoeuvred his unorthodox cape to follow as he gently lowered himself into the welcoming embrace of the seat. Bundling the duvet in his arms, he more neatly situated the covers around him to stave off the frightful and unforgiving chill of the night. Reclining back, he turned aching emerald eyes towards the moon and stars that illuminated the sky like the city lights he longingly missed back home. His thoughts idly turned towards his brothers and he moved his gaze across the lake from his vantage point of the balcony, a forlorn ache blooming in his chest that almost outdid the gnawing pain behind his eyes. He lifted slender fingers from the warmth of his duvet cocoon to rub resolutely at them, brushing small droplets from the corners as he fought off an all encompassing yawn.

His mind began to entertain thoughts about his journey and the notion he was possibly shirking his responsibilities as a Gym Leader suddenly hit him hard like a super-effective move. Green eyebrows furrowed and he heaved a sigh, his breath visibly ghosting into the air before being swallowed by the icy, voracious night. He wondered about his intentions out loud, a whisper that was followed up by the calls of distant Pokémon and water being gently teased by passing winds across the surface of the lake.

His answer came in the form of a Pokémon cry at his back and he jumped in his bedquilt coat, turning to catch two strong, red and dark-grey tipped pincers carefully prying open the glass doors he'd passed through a short time before. Light nylon curtains jostled and bulged as a shape began to emerge from behind them until the fabric eventually pulled away to reveal Crustle scuttling out from beneath the folds. The huge block of sediment on its back barely passed through the opening as the crustacean-like Pokémon squeezed through and he snapped from his surprise to offer assistance when his eyes met those of the dual Bug and Rock-type.

Orange orbs filled with worry met weary emerald and his breath caught in his throat at the arthropod's gaze. Manoeuvring with a dexterity that belied its bulky, intimidating appearance, his Pokémon turned back to softly pull the glass doors shut with its mighty pincers. It was then he noticed movement on top of Crustle's boulder, finding a flat yellow and brown shape to be hiding amongst the blend of rock and strata. Stunfisk appeared to notice his attention and gave a small flop in form of a wave, its flippers giving a few passing flaps as it did so.

A soft tug at his shoulder pulled his gaze away and he blinked heavy, sleep-laden eyes with a flutter of puzzlement at the sight of his partner curling up around his shoulders; Pansage worriedly pawing at the creases lining his duvet jacket. Blinking further, he pondered just when the grass-monkey had slipped past the glass doors and evaded his notice. He entertained the idea of leaving his Poké Balls in a more secure place, the notion of his team releasing themselves from their homes only to fall lost too worrying a thought.

He tucked away a mental note in his languescent brain to more firmly affix the backpack straps which contained his Poké Balls. His Pokémon convened around him, gathering together in a tight-knit circle of concern by his side. He peered over his shroud of cotton and feather down to look at each of them in turn, a hint of confusion left to traipse behind emerald irises. They all quietly mumbled in unison, appearing to talk amongst themselves before their tones held the unmistakable uplift of inflection that came with a question.

Though humans and Pokémon spoke on entirely different wavelengths, he understood the language of his friends. He shook his head, his cheek brushing against Pansage's tuft of leaves which sat neatly between the Grass-type's round ears. He softly exhaled, quietly mumbling his thoughts and audibly musing his homesickness. While Crustle and Stunfisk peered at him quizzically, Pansage nodded with a sage wisdom that befit not only his name but the twin leaves dotted neatly on his tail. He turned to lean over the arm of his chair in an attempt to glance through the glass doors, hoping to ensure Ash and Iris were indeed undisturbed by their small family gathering. Finding the ivory curtains pulled closed to conceal both room and balcony alike, he wearily leaned back and inhaled deep.

Soft and low, he began to speak.

The cool glow of neon signs. Car lights in the rain. The clatter of cutlery and plates from nearby restaurants. People and Pokémon playing in the park. He listed off some of the fondest sights and memories he held of Striaton City, his voice reserved with the distant tone of reminiscence. His Pokémon were quiet, listening intently to his somewhat coarse voice laden with lethargy. At times Pansage would interlude, adding or perhaps translating some of what he spoke to his two friends. Crustle and Stunfisk showed a particular interest in his past and he told tales of his brothers as a result; the time Cress pushed him into the park's fountain for making an ill-thought comment on Water-type Pokémon, or when Chili made him dinner which, to his dismay, ended up containing five discreetly concealed jalapeño peppers.

Soon he found himself speaking of when he was much, much younger. The father which he barely knew; and the three then baby Pokémon left behind for him and his brothers. His dear departed mother who would frequently read to him on a night when sleep failed to captivate him; the sound of her wind chimes by the open window tinkling a melody composed by the wind.

Suddenly aware he'd closed his eyes in recollection, he lazily opened them to find Pansage observing him with an odd and almost wistful expression to accompany the crease in its little black button nose. Shaking his head, he apologised and once more turned to gaze across the lake as his mind played memories behind his eyes. The grass-monkey watched him for a moment before it hopped down from its perch between the duvet creases at his shoulder, waving a cream coloured paw to his other two Pokémon to follow it back into the rented room. Stunfisk looked down from its seat atop Crustle's huge crag and the dual Bug and Rock-type gazed up to meet it, both passing equally matching stares of quizzicality. Deciding to follow Pansage, the arthropod quietly scuttled after the monkey-like Pokémon and he listened to the adjoining glass doors slide open through his haze of lethargy and exhaustion.

Rubbing resolutely at his eyes, he quickly returned his hand to the warmth of his duvet cloak as the temperature continued to descend as quickly as the half-moon rose. He couldn't find the energy to scold his Pokémon for straying from their Poké Balls and, if anything, he found he blamed himself for not storing them away more securely. He didn't wish to wake Ash or Iris on account of his own agrypnotic tendencies.

The thought slumped his very shoulders and his duvet cover dipped with them, revealing his neck to the icy elements and causing a shiver to wrack through his body. He closed his eyes and made to re-cover himself but found his limbs too heavy, burdened with heady thoughts and indecipherable feelings. He shook his head, once more rubbing at his eyes just as he heard muffled clinking at his back amongst a scuffle of small feet. He gently massaged the ache behind his eyelids as green brows furrowed at the minuscule commotion. Just as he was about to give voice to his concern, he felt soft paws pull and resituate his duvet coat around his shoulders. He hummed his gratitude to who he knew to be his partner, rubbing his eyes again with lithe fingertips for good measure before blearily cracking open emerald irises.

The sight that met him was something he wasn't at all prepared for.

His Pokémon had drug his leather satchel through the sliding glass doors and were currently in the midst of pulling out its contents. Baffled, he watched silently as Pansage hopped down from his chair to aid Stunfisk in its search while Crustle once again drew the curtains closed before moving on to the balcony doors. Secretly thankful that the arthropod had the courtesy to limit any noise they were making for his two travel compatriots, he gave a daze nod of gratitude just as Pansage and Stunfisk gave an equal cry of triumph.

Turning back to the two, he stared dumbly at what they held between each other. He'd expected them to maybe pull out his Pokémon Connoisseur handbook to serve as a distraction, or even the spare blanket he carried to wrap themselves up in very much the same way he was.

What he wasn't prepared for, however, was for them to pull out his cutlery set and silver serving dome.

Questions furiously rose to lie on the tip of his tongue, but he found himself too exhausted to speak and instead settled for watching his Pokémon with great curious intent. As Crustle scuttled over to join Pansage and Stunfisk, he idly wondered if they actually planned to use the instruments for their intended purposes of dining. Something told him otherwise, however, and as Pansage pulled out what he recognised to be his compact fishing rod, his suspicions were confirmed. The grass-monkey fumbled with the latch of the shiny purple case and after a moment's observation, he removed his hand from its duvet casing to beckon with outstretched fingers towards his partner.

The Grass-type's oval ears gave a flick in understanding and the Pokémon hopped up to place the instrument into his awaiting palm. Releasing his other hand from its cotton covers, his fingers shivered from the burst of cold before he deftly unscrewed the cap and extended the rod to its full mast. Pansage gave a neat little backflip in gratitude as he handed the rod back with a tilt of his head, a mix of amused bemusement dancing behind his tired eyes. The small Grass-type proceeded to drag the tool over towards his satchel with some difficulty before reaching for his silver serving dome. He furrowed green brows even further when Pansage began to tug the fishing twine along the rod's guides, spinning the reel and handle as it gathered a small amount of line into its paws.

Meanwhile, Stunfisk had managed to jostle his cutlery onto his satchel, an assortment of silver knives, forks, and spoons spilled across the leather. Crustle scuttled over and visibly inhaled, the front two of its six legs lifting from the ground as the arthropod raised its mighty bulk. Suddenly exhaling, the Pokémon began to spit string from its mouth and spin lines around its pincers like a spool of thread. His brow jumped towards his chartreuse hairline, unaware his Pokémon possessed the ability to create cord; too accustomed with the Dual-type's particular talent in producing corrosive acid to either melt or mend rocks. Snipping the ends of the freshly-created thread, the arthropod began to neatly lay out lines of string next to each individual piece of cutlery. As it did, Pansage started to use its own gathering of twine to neatly tie the small handle of his serving dome to the line of his fishing rod with dainty cream paws.

Utterly baffled by this strange bout of midnight arts and crafts, he watched with unparalleled intrigue as Crustle and Pansage then switched places; the grass-monkey now tying the lines of thread left behind by the arthropod to each piece of silverware, while the Bug and Rock-type coated the inside of his serving dome with a sticky coating of special acid. Finishing their tasks, he watched as Crustle then picked up the handle of his fishing rod and rose the instrument into the air, balancing the pole between its powerful pincers and boulder-burdened body. The silver serving dome swung into place, dangling neatly to hang just above Crustle's slab of rock and his spiky head.

Pansage hopped up onto the arthropod's crag as did Stunfisk, the Grass-type holding handfuls of cutlery each tied with its own piece of specially crafted thread. Displaying keen athleticism, the monkey-like Pokémon then climbed onto the fishing pole and wrapped its tail from the rod, swinging down to suspend itself alongside the dome. Pulling the silverware towards itself, it began to attach the cords to the inside of the dish, using Crustle's previous coating to hold the bits of string in place. Finished, the grass-monkey curled up onto the rod again and returned to perch atop Crustle's rock, releasing the shiny dome as it did so.

The silverware fell into place with a light clatter which resonated into the night, a small collection of knives, forks and spoons now left to dangle from within the polished incurvature. Once his initial spike of fear of the cutlery not holding to the dome ebbed away, he blinked. Then blinked again. Realisation slowly sunk in as did a warmth of the heart that couldn't be replicated by any fire nor contained by any lone duvet.

It was a makeshift wind chime.

He openly gaped, partly at his Pokémon's creativity but also at their obvious consideration and concern towards his well-being. A blur of brown and yellow caught his eye and he looked down to find Stunfisk situating itself near the end of the pole. The electric-fish looked towards Crustle who then nodded in response, a hint of mischief held behind its orange orbs. Reaching out with its yellow-finned tail, Stunfisk then touched the side of the pole before a glimmer of sparks passed over its thin body.

A melodious chime suddenly rang through the air, the hanging cutlery beginning to lightly jingle against each other to create a soothing tune that took him straight back to the late nights shared with his mother. A grin slowly crept across his weary face when realisation dawned upon him and he leaned back in his duvet, listening to the metallic lullaby composed of Stunfisk's electricity as the Pokémon discharged light stores of static through the purple fishing rod.

His grin slowly melted into a blissful smile as he nodded to his dear Pokémon, mumbling a heartfelt thank you to their satisfied faces. In turn, they exchanged expressions of delight and began to settle as did he, the hour growing increasingly late. Pansage curled its tail beneath its cream-coloured tummy as it perched on the edge of Crustle's boulder to rest, while the arthropod lowered itself closer to the balcony deck, the fishing rod held neatly between its claws. After a moment's consideration, the Dual-type reached out a dark grey-tipped pincer and pulled Stunfisk in towards it. The Electric and Ground-type fish blinked in surprise before its eyes creased into a smile. Settling within Crustle's arms, Stunfisk glowed a light yellow as he continued to cover his body in a coat of static to vibrate through the fishing rod, the fish-like creature acting as an efficient yet unorthodox night light to his friends.

Leaning back in his chair, he surveyed his Pokémon behind purple-veiled eyelids as they cuddled together to the metallic jingle of hanging cutlery. Each slowly began to drift off to sleep under the watchful moon and he too could feel the pull of slumber upon him like a siren's song.

He was tired.

So very, very tired.

That night, as he sat bundled in his duvet to the resounding chimes of silverware, he dreamt of city lights.

**Author's Note:**

> My little foray into experimenting with another side of Cilan; one that we rarely see and yet also one I love the notion of. I hope you enjoyed it!
> 
> (I don't think Cilan did...) 
> 
> Do you think I should continue this? All critique welcome!


End file.
